Alfred the Don Juan
by Fellest
Summary: Matthew and Arthur are in a good relationship, but things become complicated when Matthew meets Alfred. Matthew is torn between the one that he loves, and this new comer, but things aren't always as they seem for the poor Canadian...
1. Meeting Alfred

Didn't Mean to be a Don Juan

[Matthew x Alfred x Arthur]

Part 1:

The two smiled as Arthur moved his lips over Matthew's. The Canadian was straddling Arthur's lap. One of the Englishman's hands was behind the Canadian's head, the other was moving up Matthew's back, ducking under the shirt. Their tongues slid into each others mouths as Arthur moved forward, pushing Matthew onto the bed.

The Canadian sighed as Arthur began un-doing his shirt, placing a warm kiss along the way. When he reached the naval, he dipped his tongue in and began slobbering in it. For a man so obsessed with neatness, he can be messy when it came to sex.

Matthew moved his fingers through his lover's blonde hair, as the man on top slid his pants down. With the mouth still at the navel, Arthur's hands moved behind Matthew and squeezed the cheeks, causing the Canadian to let out a squeal. Arthur smirked up and said, "Do you like that, darling?"

The Canadian giggled and looked down with a flushed face. "You know that I love everything you do, my love."

Arthur smirked and squeezed again. Matthew's breathing steadily got deeper as Arthur threw off the Canadian's underwear. He held up the legs and pressed a kiss onto the inner thigh, and began moving the kisses down to the erection. Matthew's breathing hitched as Arthur engulfed him whole. His eyed his lover, who tried to keep eye contact, all the while getting a blow job.

Arthur's hands were slowly moving up and down Matthew's thigh, causing the young man to shiver underneath. Matthew felt himself stiffen as Arthur's tongue slid over the head slowly, then down the shaft. The Englishman then started to move one of his finger's from the thigh over to the balls, messaging them a little as he moved up the crack. He pushed the tip of the finger a little into the whole, teasingly, but which through Matthew over the edge. The Canadian came into Arthur's mouth, semen dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

"Always so adorable, my precious, darling, boy…" Arthur slivered his way up, laying kisses along the way.

Matthew giggled and asked, "Why do you keep referring to me as your son? Someone has a father complex, I think…"

Arthur smirked and brought Matthew into a VERY deep, wet kiss, running his tongue along the teeth before pressing against Matthew's tongue. He began to rub their crouches together, still holding the legs up. He would break the kiss every so often to get his pants down and off.

Eventually they were both naked, Arthur's hands moving all over the younger man's body. He then moved away suddenly, only to replace his mouth with two fingers. Licking Matthew's earlobe, he sneered, "You know what to do, lover."

Matthew more then gratefully accepted the fingers, sucking on them enthusiastically as Arthur began sucking on his neck. The Englishman loved feeling the pulse underneath his tongue whenever Matthew got excited. It always turned him on even more. When he felt how moist his fingers were, he drew them out of his lover's mouth and hoisted himself up with one arm. Smirking, he held up on of Matthew's legs and pushed a finger into him.

The Canadian moaned, wiggling underneath him. Arthur chuckled, "Come on, I want to hear every sound you make. I want you to scream every time I hit that sweet spot of your's…"

He licked Matthew's cheek as he slipped in another finger. Matthew moaned deeply as Arthur purred into his ear, "Come on, my sweet Matthew: there has to be something there. Come on, darling…"

And that's where he hit it. Matthew gasped loudly, arching his back of the bed. "Oh Arthur! Right there, please!"

Arthur smirked withdrawing his fingers, but before he could wine, soft large and blunt could be felt at his entrance. Matthew wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck, sighing and groaning loudly. Arthur kissed him on the cheek and said, while thrusting mercilessly, "There it is! Scream it out, son! Say it!"

It took Matthew a moment to be able to comprehend anything, before shouting, "Oh, Arthur, love, papa!"

Arthur smashed in, coming inside of his lover. When he finished emptying inside Matthew, he collapsed onto him, both catching their breaths. Arthur chuckled, moving up so that he was looking straight into Matthew tired eyes. "Told you I'd get you to say it."

Matthew smiled. "I can't say no to you, dear Arthur…"

Arthur bent down and gave his lover a chaste kissed.

*****

Matthew was strolling down the street, humming to himself. He had known Arthur for quite some time (Ever since he was a young child, actually), and they had grown quite fond of each other, to the point where they had a very _close_ relationship.

Suddenly, Matthew stopped, holding his breath: not far ahead was Ivan, his back turned to the Canadian. He then flinched as the Russian turned around a greeted him with a rather cold grin. Ivan waved and said, "Hello friend, it's been a while Matthew."

The Canadian took a small step back, smiling nervously at the Russian. He muttered, "Yeah, too long… 'n' you?"

"You're shaking, boy: say, are you cold?" Asked the Russian in a fake show of kindness. "That's rather strange since you are from Canada—" He takes a step forward. "And on such a day like this—"

"I'm not cold!" blurted out Matthew, before he could even think.

He clasped his hands over his mouth as Ivan took yet another step forward, now only a couple of yards away. He stretched out his hands and said, "Oh, but I miss you, little maple. Why must that mean, old, British man get between us… again."

He grabbed the Canadian's arms and locked him in place, which wasn't very hard with a man that size. Ivan, moving in close, said coldly, "I thought you were happy—"

A soft bang was heard as Ivan's head was forced to the side by something large and fast. He staggered to the side, letting go of Matthew. There was a man behind the Russian, a rather handsome, familiar, looking man. The man looked exactly like Matthew, except for the eyes, which were a lighter blue, and the hair, cut shorter with a cow-lick at the front.

He was hovering over the Russian, glaring daggers at him. He growled, "Ivan, what have I told you about scaring people?"

Ivan looked behind him and smirked, "I am not scarring him; I was merely saying hello to an old acquaintance, comrade Alfred."

The man grabbed Ivan by the collar and started pulling him away from Matthew, shoving him down the street. He then kicked the Russian up the arse and shouted, "If I ever see you near this fine young man again, Ivan, I'll make sure my foot goes RIGHT UP! Understood!"

Ivan just glared back before stumbling away. The man named Alfred placed an arm around Matthew's waist and asked, "Aren't you cute, no wonder he went after you. Are you okay now? What's your name?"

Matthew blushed, looking away, only to have a strong hand gently jerk his head back to face Alfred. He moved his lips to the Canadian's ear and licked the lobe. "I didn't embarrass you, did I…? Matthew."

The Canadian gasped and asked, "How- how did you know my name?"

Alfred chuckled and moved the Canadian in closer. "I heard Ivan say it, of cause. I was behind him the whole time. I do apologise: I was the one who saw you freeze before, and I brought his attention to you. Sorry, I was hoping to hit on you first, but…"

Matthew sighed, trying to stutter something out, but only squeaked when Alfred moved his lips over Matthew's. He circled his arms around the Canadian's waist as he kneaded their lips together. Matthew was still too shocked to respond, so he opted to grab the man's collar, moving in a little further. Alfred moved his tongue across Matthew's lips, making the poor man shutter, still trying to remain still. When Alfred gave up the ghost, he moved their lips a part and smiled, looking into Matthew's eyes. "Sorry, I guess I got a bit carried away there."

Matthew giggled, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I'm sorry, but I already have a boyfriend. We can be friends though, if you like…"

Alfred kept one arm around the young man's waist and said, "I guess that's good enough… for now, anyway. Come, I'll take you home, Matthew." He winked.

The Canadian blushed, letting this man escort him home. Along the way, they talked. Matthew found out that Alfred was from America and that he had moved to London several years ago to see an old friend. He was very vague on whom the friend was, but it turned out that he was also close to Ivan, since they worked together. And, in turn, Matthew told him all about Arthur and how he grew up in London, even though he was born in Canada.

"Arthur, eh?" thought Alfred, with unusual intrigue. "Sorry, please, do go on."

Matthew chuckled lightly, moving in a little closer to Alfred without even realising, "Oh yeah, um… So, yeah I've known Arthur for quite some time. He use to be my baby sitter, when my parents first moved here. I think I was four, I can't really remember, I was young at the time. I spent more time with him then anyone else…"

"Is that why you's two established a relationship? Because you's were so close?"

"Yeah, sort of," Matthew thought for a moment, placing a finger on his chin. Alfred smirked and thought of how cute the young man was when he was thinking. Matthew continued, "He was over so many times that I often thought he was living with us. But I got attached to him at adolescence. Teenage hormones, I guess…"

They both chuckled as Matthew brought them to a stop outside his house (Or rather, Arthur's) house. Alfred brought him up to the front door, giving him a, long, peck on the cheek. He released the waist and placed a note in the Canadians hand. "My number and address is on that. Hope to see you again, Matthew."

He gave Matthew another peck on the cheek before leaving. The Canadian just stood there, waiting until he couldn't see the American anymore, and then proceeded inside.

Arthur was lying on the couch, watching the television. Matthew slumped on top of him as soon as he reached the Englishman. Arthur wrapped his arms around his lover, smiling, and began running his fingers through the long blonde hair. "Did you have a hard day?"

Matthew moved up a little and kissed him on the lips. "It was… eventful, you could say."

"Oh, how so?"

"It's just—" Matthew stopped: he couldn't tell Arthur about Alfred. It just didn't seem right, so he just said, "I missed you, I don't know why, but I missed you."

Arthur drew him even closer, so that their noses were brushing against each other. He kissed the Canadian on the nose and said, "And I'll make sure you'll always feel like that…"

Matthew smiled, bringing the two into a long, open mouth kiss.

_To be Continued…_

_PS_

_I wrote this in response to a meme. The request asked for Matthew and Arthur/Ivan (I chose Arthur cause I like him better) to be in a happy relationship, but start having problems as they both fall in love with Alfred, without realising each others dilemma. Because I'm doing another meme (or two), the next chapter maybe late._


	2. Bay Hotel

Didn't Mean to be a Don Juan

[Matthew x Alfred x Arthur]

Part 2:

Matthew ran down the street. He wasn't too late, but he didn't like making a habit of things. He stopped outside a rather, ritzy hotel, and looked down at the note he was given.

The Canadian's eye twitched as he looked back up at the hotel. It was tall, with some girth to it, and (what looked like) an English pub on the ground floor. He looked down at the note again, and then looked back up and shuttered. _I know it's a hotel, but they cost more to stay in then a mortgage, especially with how flash this place is,_ he thought.

He swallowed and walked up to the front door. He was about to enter, when it opened in front of him, with Alfred walking out. The American smiled, "Oh good, you're here; I was about to go out and look for you."

Matthew gasped and explained, "Oh, I'm so sorry, I hope you didn't have to wait too long for me. I was waiting for Arthur to leave for work, you see. I didn't want him to get too suspicious, not that I'm doing anything suspicious or anything, but…"

Alfred put a finger over Matthew's lips, bent down so that they were face to face and said, "It's okay, you're here now and that's all that matters. Now, where do you want to go?"

The Canadian smiled as Alfred led him from the hotel.

"I'll show you around my apartment when we get back," said Alfred, as they entered the main drag. They spent most of the wondering around, talking and eating. Matthew had to laugh at how much Alfred could eat: breakfast, brunch, lunch, _second_ lunch, snack, snack, snack… The American said that he worked out a lot: Matthew snickered at this excuse, but let it go when Alfred showed how strong he was by lifting the Canadian up high.

"Okay, you've proven your point, now please let me down…" stuttered Matthew, holding onto Alfred's head, his head resting next to Alfred's cheek.

The American was laughing, cradling the shivering young man at his chest. He purred into Matthew's ear, "I'll put you down if you'll go out with me."

Matthew gasped, moving his head back so that he could see Alfred properly. He muttered to the American, trying to not look at the smirk on his face, "I- I told you… I, I have, a boyfriend- I can't leave him—"

"Then don't tell him." Alfred kissed him on the cheek and continued, "I can drop you if you're desperate enough…"

Matthew's eye twitched. He sighed, moving his head back onto the cheek. "You sound like my brother, Francois. I think he dated five women at the same time, once. Arthur said that he'd hit on me if it wasn't for the fact that Arthur was there to _save me._ Ironic isn't it…"

Alfred brought their lips together and nipped at the soft, maple tasting flesh. After a moment he moved away and smiled, "Well?"

Matthew licked his lips, frowning a little before saying, "Ye- yeah, I guess… Can it just, start off friendly…?"

Alfred smirked, tightening the grip around the Canadian. He chuckled, "If that's what you want, but I'm not going to let you down, you know—"

"Why not? I said I'd go out with you!"

The American smirked. "Because you're so cute when you're blushing, especially when frightened."

Matthew pouted, letting his head lean against Alfred's shoulder, as the American lowered him a little. Matthew spent the rest the rest of the walk in Alfred's arms, red of embarrassment. However, most people who walked past probably thought Alfred was a boyfriend carrying around his (lazy/tired) girlfriend. He placed the Canadian down when they reached the front doors of the hotel.

"We'll take the stairs since the elevators stuffed," explained Alfred, guiding his companion into the hotel lobby.

Matthew whimpered a little, having seen how tall the place was. Alfred chuckled, placing his arm around the Canadian's waist. "Don't worry; my apartment is on the third floor. It's not that much of a hike, really."

Matthew smiled, letting out a soft sigh. "Okay then…"

The stairs were a little steep, but they were carpeted making the impact with their feet easier on them. It was evident that Alfred was use to these, always slowing down to help Matthew he if was short on breath.

The Canadian gasped as he stepped into Alfred's _apartment._ The lounge room was wide and lush, with a deep sea, dark blue and grey colouring. There was a large, plasma screen TV next to the wall size window (Which over looked the city), with a black leather couch on the other side of the room. There was a large, wooden bookcase on one side of the door, and a long table and tall cabinet on the other side. The carpet was a soft and grey, and clean, which made Matthew feel bad about walking on it with shoes.

He asked, "Um, Alfred: how much does a place like this cost? How… well off are exactly?"

Alfred, who had been in the kitchen, came out holding two Pepsi cans. He threw one at Matthew and explained, "Part of it is because my parents are loaded. The other part is that I have a good job."

"What do you do?"

Alfred just slouched onto the couch and pattered the spot next to him. He winked, "I'll tell you if you come here, Matthew."

The Canadian bit his lip and sighed, walking over and taking a seat. Alfred snuck an arm behind Matthew's waist and licked his cheek. The young man shuttered, trying to look away, only to find his head being tilted back by Alfred hand again. The American asked, "Does it really matter what I do? Do you want me to show you to the bedroom?"

Matthew flushed, placing his can onto the see-through coffee table in front of them. Alfred did the same to his opened one, placing soft nips on Matthew's cheek. He tried to move Alfred away, gently, but it only resulted in the American grabbing is wrists. He moved the pecks down to Matthew's neck, stopping at the part where the neck joined the shoulders. The Canadian withered underneath him as he turned the kisses into licks, moving to the hollow of the neck.

He moved the hand, which was holding Matthew wrist, and rested it behind Matthew. He pushed the Canadian onto the couch and started un-buttoning Matthew's shirt, moving his lips down the soft flesh.

Matthew lay there, panting as Alfred reached the naval. His breath hitched as Alfred dipped his tongue himself, looking up and smirked. "You like that, do you… little Matthew?"

That's when Matthew snapped, getting up, causing Alfred to fall backwards a little. He blushed and apologised, "I'm… I'm sorry, Alfred: like I said, I have a boyfriend. Please don't make me chose…"

Alfred sat up and stared at his _friend._ He sighed and smiled. "Okay, I think I should take you back home now."

Matthew whimpered, "I'm sorry."

The American chuckled and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't apologise, I'll be seeing you tomorrow anyway—"

"Tomorrow: so soon?"

Alfred nodded. Matthew moaned as Alfred pulled him from the couch. "Well yeah: I still have to show you around, and I can do that tomorrow, right?"

Matthew gave in and nodded his head.

"Good, so I'll drive you home now, okay."

Matthew looked at him with wide eyes. "You have a car?"

Alfred nodded as they took a step out of the apartment and headed for the stairs. "Yeah, this beautiful black Mercedes I got when I first came here. Come on, it's just down in the car park."

Behind the hotel was a six story tall car park. Alfred had been lucky enough to grab a spot on the first level. When Matthew saw the car, he saw why the American was so happy about it. It was a rather attractive car, nicely reflecting the lights in the garage. Matthew took a seat in the front, to the left of Alfred.

The American snickered, "It took me ages to get use to the whole 'left side of the road' thing here in England. Actually, I bought this car so that I wouldn't crash. I had a Mustang when I was in America, but I sold it to a friend before I came. Pity, it was nice, even though it was a bomb…"

The sun was beginning to set as he drove down the road. Matthew sunk into the seat, watching Alfred drive. The American shot glances every so often, so he asked, "What's wrong? Never been in a nice car before?"

Matthew chuckled and said quietly, "Kind of… Arthur and I walked around a lot when I was little, so I'm kind of use to it. I didn't even bother to get a license because Arthur said he'll drive me around everywhere."

"Sounds like this Arthur person's really in to you."

Matthew smiled as Alfred pulled up outside his house. The American bent over and kissed Matthew on the lips. The Canadian opened his mouth to let in passage, figuring that it'd be easier just to give Alfred what he wanted then to fight again. They stayed like that for a moment, tongues teasing each other, before pulling away. Alfred smiled, "So I'll see you tomorrow?"

The Canadian nodded is head and smiled, "Yeah, and then you can show me your place."

Alfred gave him another peck on the cheek before he left. Matthew watched as the car sped on. He chuckled to himself, walking up to the house. As he soon as he entered, he threw himself at Arthur, kissing him, as the older man wrapped his arms around his waist.

When they broke, Arthur asked, "Tough day?"

"Kind of…" muttered Matthew, as he kissed Arthur again.

_To be Continued…_


	3. Kiss of Danish

Didn't Mean to be a Don Juan

[Matthew x Alfred x Arthur]

Part 3:

Arthur was sitting on the bed, shirtless. He was leaning against the wall; legs stretched forward, reading a novel. Matthew came out of the bathroom wearing light red pyjamas, rubbing his eyes. The Englishman smiled as Matthew crept under the covers, placing his body on Arthur's legs, his head resting on the Englishman's lap.

Arthur placed his novel on the table next to them and ran his hand through the Canadian's soft hair. He asked softly, "You've been pre-occupied over the last couple of days: are you okay?"

Matthew nodded, nuzzling up to Arthur's waist. He kissed the bare naval, repeating the action when he felt Arthur chuckled underneath him. The Englishman threw his head back, moaning as the young man's kisses moved up his body. He was flustered by the time Matthew stopped at his neck, sucking and licking it slowly.

Arthur sighed, "Oh, Matthew…" and threw himself at the boy, pushing their lips together furiously. He held Matthew close, one hand moving down to the ass, as he practically devoured the others mouth.

"Matthew, I…" groaned Arthur, running a hand down the young man's body.

"Papa…" Matthew moaned, sighing as Arthur reached his destination. The Englishman moved there mouths aways.

He kissed Matthew on the cheek. "That's my boy…"

*****

Matthew was outside the hotel again, this time he was fifteen minutes early. He breathed in, entering the building. _Here we go then,_ he thought.

He knocked on Alfred's apartment. Only a few seconds later, the door opened, with Alfred standing there, towel around his mid-section. The young man could DEFINITELY tell that Alfred was fit, and tanned. Matthew blushed, hearing the other man chuckle, "You're pretty early: I was hoping to be ready by the time you got here. Come in anyway, I'll just go through some on."

Matthew squeaked quietly. He apologised as soon as he entered the apartment, "I'm really sorry: I got nervous, so I came early but I can leave and come if you wa—"

Alfred held him close, kissing him. He drew away, smiling at Matthew, still holding him close. "I don't mind, Matthew." He winked and said, "I can even take off my towel if you'd like?"

The Canadian gasped, shaking his head. "N- no, it's okay. Please, I'll be fine. You… you can go- and put on some clothes now, if you like…"

"If I like?" An eyebrow went up.

Matthew blushed, realising his mistake. "I meant: you should put some clothes on: you can't walk around all day in the nude." Matthew chuckled awkwardly.

Alfred finally pulled away, running the back of his fingers down Matthew's check. "Oh I don't know; I've done it before…"

He chuckled again, releasing the young man and walking out of the room. Matthew went to sit on the couch, afraid of fainting after flushing so much. He took several breaths in by the time Alfred came back. The American was wearing white shorts and an opened, navy-blue, shirt. The young man blushed as he saw Alfred's ripped ribs and chest, again.

"Want a drink?" The American asked, walking towards the door to (what Matthew figured to be) the kitchen. Matthew only nodded.

Alfred gestured Matthew to follow him. "Come here, I'll show you the kitchen."

The Canadian got up and followed him. He gaped as he entered a descent sized, sleek, marble room. There were no utensils out and the place seemed very clean. Alfred ducked his head into the fridge and asked, "What do you want: coke, beer…?"

"Oh, um…" Matthew looked over at it and said, "I guess a Coke thanks."

Alfred snickered and asked, "Are you sure you don't want a beer or scotch? Can't get you drunk, can I?"

Matthew blushed and shook his head. "I'm afraid it's a bit early for that; maybe later."

Alfred smiled, closing the fridge door and handing the young man a can. Matthew watched as Alfred dug into one of the draws and got out a mini bottle opener, and flicked off the top on his beer. The Canadian yelped as Alfred snuck an arm around his waist and drew him close. "Come on, I'll show you to the bathroom."

He steering him out of the kitchen, their drinks quickly forgotten, and led him into the room on the other side of the lounge room. They entered a dark room, with a dark blue, king sized bed sitting on the other side of the room. Next to the door was a desk with a state-of-the-art computer and flat screen monitor. Alfred patted him on the back and said, "You like it?"

Matthew chuckled, looking back at his friend, and asked, "Why, dare I ask, do you have a double bed? Isn't it a bit big for—?"

Alfred had wrapped his arms around the young man's waist and drew them close. He snickered, "Who says it will only be me?"

Matthew looked away, blushing and chuckled nervously to himself. Alfred gave him a peck on the cheek and led him to the next room: the bathroom. Obviously, it wasn't very big, but it was fancy. It had a marble sink and floors with a deep, wide bath tube, and a shower next to the wide window. _Great, get a good look at the scenery while washing your ass,_ snickered Matthew.

Alfred pointed to another door to their right. "In there's the toilet, okay?"

Before the Canadian could say a thing, Alfred began nibbling down the young man's neck. Matthew squirmed a little underneath him; a blush going across her nose and down to his neck. The Canadian raised an arm to push away the _attacker,_ but was stopped by Alfred, who grabbed his wrist and kissed it.

He smirked, "Why are you pushing me away? You're enjoying this, Mattie…"

He gasped as Alfred slammed him against the wall and began attacking his lips with his own. Matthew wrapped his arms around the other man's neck as Alfred grabbed one of his thighs and held it up, grinding their hips together. Matthew moaned as Alfred stuck his tongue down the young man's throat. But, as the American moved his hand up the thigh, Matthew used this free leg to kick Alfred away, lightly.

With an 'oof,' the American staggered back as Matthew bowed and apologised.

"You're really serious about Arthur, aren't you?" Alfred said, steadying himself. He placed a hand over his stomach and breathed in.

Matthew gasped and ran over to him. "Oh, I'm sorry: did I hurt you? I didn't mean to…"

Alfred placed his hands on Matthew cheeks, kissed him on the nose and said, "I'm okay, so just relax… Are you hungry? Come on, I'll take you out to eat."

Matthew blushed as he was lured out of the room. The American remembered the drinks and jogged off to put them back in the fridge before returning to Matthew with a wink. Alfred turned to face him as soon as they left the apartment and winked. "You can check out my bed later, if you want."

The Canadian giggled nervously as Alfred led him out of the hotel, arm around the waist. Walking down the street, he placed his lips near Matthew's ear and purred, "And if you misbehave, I'll carry you around again, got it?"

Matthew nodded his head, as Alfred kissed him on the earlobe.

This time, they spent most of their time in a café in London, due to rain that came down just as they entered the miserable city (I don't know if it's miserable, I've never been but it sounds like Burnie, so I'm guessing). Alfred didn't mind, happily eating away at an Apple Danish while humming to himself. He sipped up some of his tea, pulled a face, and looked over at Matthew. The young man was resting his head on Alfred's shoulder, breathing contently. The American ran his finger along those soft, supple lips, leaving a trail of apple sauce along the way. He saw Matthew sniff, waking up. The young man licked his lips and looked up at Alfred, who smiled down warmly.

"Did you enjoy your sleep, beautiful?"

Matthew blushed at this new nickname, and turned away. Alfred chuckled next to him as he offered some of his Danish. "Here, you hungry?"

Matthew looked down at the plate and picked up what was left of the pastry, placing it in his mouth. Alfred swallowed as he watched Matthew bite into it and chew slowly. He moaned when the Canadian swallowed it and bit into the next piece, with a little bit of tongue showing as he did.

Alfred gave into the temptation, turned around to face the other man and asked, with a smirk, "Want to taste the rest of it?"

The Canadian cocked an eyebrow, looking at him bewildered. But then he realised what he meant as Alfred moved in closer, licking Matthew's lips. The Canadian gasped and opened them, tasting the apple on Alfred's breath. The American enjoyed himself as he moved the bit of pastry around in their mouths. After Matthew, reluctantly, swallow the Danish, they pulled away, Alfred licking his lips.

"Hey, I've got to tell you," began Alfred, running a hand through the Canadian's blonde locks, "I'm going to be busy this week, so can we meet up this weekend?"

Matthew thought for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, that's okay…"

"Here, give me your cell phone number…" said Alfred, searching around for something in his pockets. He brought out a small mobile and winked as Matthew handed him his phone. Alfred pressed in the numbers then returned Matthew his phone, with another wink. "There: I'll call you Friday night, okay?"

Matthew nodded and they both got up. The rain had subsided, for now, and they left the café. Alfred drove Matthew home, leaving him with a kiss and a small paper bag. After the car drove off, Matthew looked in the bag and smiled: it was another, whole, Danish pastry. He went inside, hoping to share it with Arthur when he returned.

_To be Continued…_


	4. Arthur

Didn't Mean to be a Don Juan

[Matthew x Alfred x Arthur]

Part 4:

It was late, Wednesday night, and Matthew could smell the smoke and gin on Arthur as he, quietly, slipped into bed after midnight for the third time that week. He felt two arms wrap around his waist and lips on his cheek. There was something else on those lips, but he couldn't quite tell what: but it smelt familiar…

The lips moved further down his cheek bone and down his neck. The mouth stopped at the crook of the neck, the then a hand started to move down and into the Canadian's pants. This is when the young man, reluctantly, let out a soft moan.

"Have you been awake this whole time?"

Matthew didn't move. Arthur kissed him on the cheek again and purred, hand still down the pants, "Alright, turn around then…"

The Canadian shook his head, clenching the bed sheets lightly. Arthur groaned and continued what he was doing. He rubbed Matthew's inner thigh, bringing out another soft sigh. The Englishman started to lick his cheek, moving one leg over Matthew's, trapping him. He licked the ear and asked, "What's wrong, love?"

Matthew stifled an eep as Arthur moved around to see the young man's face. The Englishman pushed the young man onto his back. Looking down at the flushed face, he asked, "Matthew… did I do something wrong?"

The Canadian shook his head, moving up and kissing his lover on the lips. "No, I just worry about you. You've been coming home late recently, so… I guess…"

Arthur pressed their lips together before the young man could continue. Matthew inhaled the polluting fumes coming from Arthur as the Englishman pushing his tongue in further into the mouth. The Canadian twitched underneath, sighing heavily in Arthur's grasps. Arthur's hand went back to toiling at the young man's inner thigh.

He starts to rub up against his lover, moving one of Matthew's legs to circle his waist, so that he can have better access of his crouch.

Arthur moved his attention to the Canadian's neck, which gave Matthew the chance to stutter, "Pl- please, Ar… th,ur… wher- where have, you… hm, been- tonight?"

Arthur kissed him on the hollow of the neck and smirked, "You're so cute when you're stuttering: just like when you were younger. But you're always adorable, little Mattie, my little son…"

Matthew couldn't help but chuckle at this as Arthur's mouth moved down to one of the nipples. Matthew moaned, breathing getting heavy as Arthur worked on it, having the tongue move the soft flesh up and down. One of the older man's hands went down the soft back and coming to a rest on Matthew's rear, ghosting his fingers over his hole.

The Canadian gasped gently, muttering, "Arthur…"

Arthur smirked again, moving his lips down the chest, over the stomach, a short stop at the navel, to come to a stop at the base of the boy's member. He licked up the shaft and kissed the tip, watching the effect it had on Matthew with glee. The boy shifted underneath him as he placed the whole member into his mouth, playing with the balls to help wake it up.

"Oh… Ar- fa… ther…" breathed Matthew, his hands on Arthur's head as the man bobbed up and down his quickly growing erection. His blush went down to his neck as Arthur's bobbing set up a steady movement of rocking on the bed. Things got worse for the young man when the Englishman moved a finger over his hole, and pressed in slightly.

Matthew yelped, throwing his head back onto the pillow. Arthur pushed his finger in a little bit more, teasingly. The Canadian gripped his pillow as he could feel himself coming. He gasped, "Arth- Arthur, I think… I'm com- ah!"

He thrusted up a little as he came in Arthur's mouth. The Englishman swallowed every bit, licking up after himself as well. He crawled his way up Matthew's body and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Do you mind if we don't go any further: I'm feeling a little tired tonight."

Matthew nodded, kissing his lover on the cheek. He said softly, as Arthur slipped into bed next him, after throwing off his shirt, "You shouldn't be up late, you know…"

"I know," snickered Arthur, holding Matthew close to his neck. He gave the young man a kiss on the cheek before whispering, "Next time I might show you where I've been going…"

Friday couldn't have come any faster. Arthur was still coming home late, but he was trying to get back before midnight. Matthew was lying on Arthur, who was slouching on the couch, watching the television. The Canadian was almost asleep, when a buzzing woke him out of it. It was coming from his pocket.

He bit his lip as he got his mobile out and went into the kitchen to answer it, giving Arthur the excuse that he didn't want to disturbed his TV time…

He swallowed and pressed the green button, "Hello—"

"Mattie, I missed you this week…"

Matthew tried to suppress a giggle as he heard Alfred on the other end. "Oh hey, how've you been lately?"

Alfred chuckled and said, "Look, I'm free tomorrow: I want you to come and hang out. I'll tell you what I've been doing if you do…"

He couldn't see, but Matthew could tell that Alfred was smirking. He sighed and agreed, "Okay, I guess I have nothing else to do…"

"You don't sound very happy; I think I'll do something nice for you—"

"What! No, no, I'm fine, what gave you that impression…"

Alfred snickered. "If you say so; I'm still ganna treat you to something nice though, you know. Be here by the usual time, okay?"

Matthew sighed and said he would. Before he could add anything, Alfred hung up. The Canadian sighed and returned to the lounge room, slumping onto Arthur again. The older man, running his hand through his lover's hair, asked, "Who was that?"

"Just a friend: he wanted to see me tomorrow…"

Arthur snickered, moving his hand to cup Matthew's chin. He moved the head up, so that they were looking at each other, and said, "Well, if any one's giving you shit, tell me and I'll go punch their lights out, okay?"

Matthew giggled, moving up to kiss the Englishman on the mouth. "I'll be alright, but thank you… _father_…"

*****

Matthew was sitting on Alfred's couch, hands in his lap. Alfred was in the bedroom, shuffling around a lot: he wouldn't tell Matthew what he was doing, only that he would not be long, and to _get a drink…_

He came out, shirtless, and asked, "How've you been since I last saw you? You seemed a little tired when I called you yesterday."

The Canadian blushed, looking down at his lap, smiling nervously, "Oh, well, I was kind of half asleep. I'm okay, really… I don't mean to be a nag, but could you—"

"Put on a shirt?" chuckled Alfred. Matthew could feel the couch dip next to him and a bare arm wrapping around his waist. When he looked up, he saw Alfred smirking at him, drawing the man closer. "My house, my rules, darling." He winked with the last word.

Matthew looked away and muttered, "Sorry, I guess you're right… I- eep!"

Alfred was licking and nibbling at his neck. The young man sat there, taking it. Matthew couldn't move as Alfred's hand wondered to the front of the Canadian's pants, and slid in. There was a small moan, vibrating his throat, as Alfred massaged the inner thigh. He tried to mutter, "Al- Alfr—"

"Just call me Al: no need to be so formal…" he purred into Matthew's ear.

"Oh, Al then… um…" Alfred was at Matthew's neck again, licking away at the crook and hollow of it. The Canadian's breathing began to hasten, as he felt his arms going to jelly.

Alfred moved his mouth down to Matthew's shirt, where he began un-buttoning it, laying a kiss with each one un-done. The Canadian fell back onto the couch, a hand moving through Alfred's hair. He placed his other hand over his eyes, giving into temptation. He knew he couldn't hold off from Alfred forever, but he didn't think he would cave this easily…

The American was at his pants now, un-buckling and throwing off the belt before working down the zipper. He kissed the clothed erection and smirked, "Enjoying this Mattie? Matthew? Matthew, take your hand away from your eyes—" The Canadian shook his head.

"Please, I'll make it worth your wild…"

The Canadian looked at him, regretting it. Alfred kept looking up at him, as he drew the young man's underwear down to his knees. He licked his lips and drew Matthew into his mouth, going down slowly. Matthew shut his eyes again, as his breath hitched. His chest moved up and down, just like Alfred. Matthew gripped Alfred's hair for support, as he could feel himself buckle under the man.

"Please, I'm a… I'm, Al, I'm come… hm, ing… Al—" He tried – and failed – to suppress a gasped as he came in Alfred's mouth.

Alfred snickered, as he got up and wiped – or rather licked - his mouth clean. He kissed Matthew's naval and sneered, "Do you like that? Do you want me to keep going?"

The Canadian shook his head, bitting his bottom lip. He sobbed, "N- no, I'll be fine…"

"You don't sound fine."

Matthew looked up at him, still biting his lip. Alfred looked at him with a sober look. The American began crawling up to Matthew, bent down and kissed him gently on the lips. After a moment, they pulled away. Looking down, with a gentle smile, Alfred stroked Matthew's cheek and said, "Come on, I'll make you feel better…"

The Canadian's eyes widened as he was lifted off the couch by a smirking American. "Come on, sweet cheeks: I said I'll do something nice for you, so I will."

"Alfred- no, don't…"

_To be Continued…_


	5. Flash Back

Didn't Mean to be a Don Juan

[Matthew x Alfred x Arthur]

Part 5:

Canada was lying on the soft, yet somewhat firm, bed: his legs were wrapped around Alfred's waist as his mouth was, yet again, savaged by the man on top of him. The American was thrusting up against his inner thigh, causing Matthew to _slowly_ get another erection. _Shit,_ he thought as Alfred moved away.

He was flipped over, so that he was on his stomach now, with Alfred kissing down his back. The American stopped at the base of the young man's back, kissed it and snickered up, "There's this thing I do with _another_ friend of mine; drives him nuts, despite his objections."

And without warning, he flicked his tongue up Matthew's hole and then blunged in. The Canadian gasped, his head buried into the pillow. Alfred was very, very, good, thrusting his wet tongue in and around. Matthew was clutching the pillow and the headboard, moaning in frustration and pleasure. He let out a low squeak as Alfred placing a finger inside him, to open him up a little to allow more entrance.

Matthew was shivering, with the finger (and another in there now) thrusting a little with the tongue. After a little while, Alfred pulled away with a trail of saliva. Matthew sighed in relief, that was, until he felt something blunt and hard pressing against him.

"O- God, no… Al, pl- please…" he stuttered as Alfred pushed in.

"What's that Mattie," snickered Alfred from behind, "Are you getting _hard_ again, lover?"

Matthew winced at this as Alfred pressed in and out of him. He was ruthless, having quite an excentric pace. It was very different from the usual, steady pace that Arthur use to do. Matthew flinched every time Alfred hit his prostate with all that force, but soon began to moan as he quickly got use to the speed.

Alfred bent over, kissed his _lover _on the shoulder blade and grabbed the young man's erection. "Twice in one day, you're doing well, aren't you?"

He chuckled, pumping Matthew with every thrust. The Canadian's head was now buried so deep into the pillow; he was surprised that he could even breathe. However, soon after; they both came, at the same time, moans and groans coming from each party. Alfred collapsed onto his lover, breathing heavily into the ear. "Did you like that, darling?"

Matthew wouldn't say anything; too busy trying to suck breath back into his body. Eventually, his mind caught up with his body and he rolled over, ignoring the annoyed Alfred who didn't seem to want to move. After a bit of shuffling, they came to rest with Matthew snugged comfortably under Alfred, who was lying on the Canadian's chest, smirking. Matthew asked, "You, you said that you would tell me what you've been doing."

"Hmm…"

"Well?" The American looked up at the other young man.

"I went to see a friend, this week. I haven't seen him since I left school, so it was nice to see him again. I missed him."

"Was he a friend from school?"

Alfred shook his head. "Not exactly: he use to be my babysitter when I was younger. He taught me all sorts of things, like shooting and fighting… He use to tell me, about one of his other clients too…"

He trailed off resting his head on the chest again. "He was like… a big brother…"

That's when Matthew woke up to himself, realising what he had done. He, lightly, shoved Alfred off of him and stumbled onto the ground, next to the bed. The American looked wide eye at him as the Canadian regained his footing, trying to cover himself. Blushing, he looked away and said, "I'm sorry, it's just that… I have to go. Um, call me, okay?"

Alfred nodded as he watched his friend leave the room to regain his clothes. Sighing, he murmured to himself, "Bugger, shouldn't have mentioned that part about the brother thing. He probably knows now…"

He got up, placed his clothing back on and wondered out to the lounge room, where Matthew was already dressed and about to go. The two looked at each other. "Matthew, I…"

"No, it's okay, I didn't… well, mean to be so… it's just, I told you I had a boyfriend, and I don't want to…"

Alfred stared at him: _That's why he got up-set. I thought I had blown the whistle…_ He smirked again, going over to wrap his arms around his friend and said, "Don't worry about it, you need to relax. You're so adorable, and I don't want to see wrinkles on your face, not long from now, because you worried too much: okay?"

Matthew smiled softly and nodded. The American bent down and kissed him again. "Come back again tomorrow, and I'll make sure to treat you better again, okay?"

The Canadian stared up at him. "No, I mean… I'll take you out on the town, aright?"

The young man nodded.

*****

Looking at Arthur cook, Matthew remembered back when he was being taken care of by the man.

His parent's were working a lot, and he had no siblings, so he had a nanny to look after him from an early age. That _nanny_ was Arthur. He was always been around the Englishman, staying even days by his side. He would even sleep over many nights, when the boy's parents were out at work.

He remembered one time, in partically.

_*The young boy ran up to Arthur, across the lawn. He jumped into the old teenagers arms, causing the man to fall backwards. Arthur chuckled as he sat up, clutching the boy. "Someone's glad to see me. I was only gone for the weekend, sweet heart."_

_Matthew giggled. "I know, but I missed you. It gets really lonely: mum and dad work even on the weekend. Always on the phone or study… Where did you go?"_

_Arthur got up, moving one arm under the boy while using the other to lift himself up. He smiled down and explained, "I'm sorry, I was looking after another boy. I should get you's two to meet up some day. He's a little… what's the word? Hard around the edges, but he's very nice. What do you want to do today?"_

_Matthew shrugged and nuzzled Arthur's chest again. The Englishman placed a hand onto the boy's head and rubbed it gently. "Poor thing, being so alone here… I brought you something you can talk to while I'm gone."_

_The boy looked up at him with wide eyes. Arthur winked at him and said, "Come on, I'll give it to you inside."_

_Once in the mansion-like house, Arthur placed the boy down onto the couch. He left for a moment to retrieve his suitcase, then returned and placed it on the ground gently. He un-latched it and lifted it up the lid. Matthew could see him taking something white out of it, as the man closed it._

_Arthur returned to the couch, hands behind his back. He winked and said, "Surprise," and held out a stuffed, polar bear._

_Matthew's face lit up, clasping his hands together. "Is that for me? Thank you Mr. Arthur…"_

_The Englishman handed it over and kiss boy on the head. "And I'm glad you like it."_

_He pulled the boy onto his lap, as Matthew snuggled into the bear. He kissed the top of the boy's head and sighed, "When you're old enough, I'll take you away from here, and give you a proper life. I'd take you away now if I was allowed."_

"_Mr. Arthur, sir?"_

"_Yes?" Matthew turned around slowly kneeled up and kissed Arthur on the side of the mouth. The Englishman froze, a blush coming across his face. When the boy moved away, he could see tears in his eyes. Matthew smiled and stuttered, "Do you mean it?"_

_Arthur smiled softly and nodded. "I can't keep you in such a place… can I?"*_

Arthur placed a dish in front of the dreamy Canadian and kissed him on the cheek. "What's wrong, sweet heart?"

Matthew blinked a couple of times before blushing, turning his gaze to the fish and chips in front of him. He stuttered, "Nothing, I was just thinking about when I was younger… You kept your promise: I'm glad…"

Arthur, who sitting opposite to him, looked at the Canadian with wide eyes: "Promise?"

"Yeah," chuckled Matthew at the Englishman's forgetful memory. "When I was younger, you gave me that bear that I still have, up in our room, and you promised me to take me away from my parents."

Arthur grinned, "You were so cute: I didn't want to let you go, even if you did have good parents. I would've taken you away, regardless."

They both laughed. Matthew poked at a fry and asked, "Do you want me to cook tomorrow night? I can make you pontine if you like."

Arthur looked at him, an eyebrow cocked. "You don't like my cooking?"

Matthew froze. "N- no, no, I meant, do you want me…"

Arthur's expression darkened, and smirking spreading across his face. "Yes, I do want you. And the only thing I want you to make (now, wink, wink) is pancakes smothered in maple syrup that I can lap up…"

"Oh, pancakes," A sweat drop went down the young man's face, "For dinner?"

"Yes, my little _pancake…_" Matthew squeak as he reliesed what Arthur meant by this _new nickname._

Arthur smiled sweetly and said, "Don't worry about it, let's just eat…"

_To be Continued…_

_Sorry for the delay: it was a long week, and then I got sick, so yeah…_


	6. Confessions

Relationships formed in Youth: Part 1

[France x England]

France just stared at him, eyes wide in shock as he saw chibi England scowling up at him from the ground. This is NOT what the Frenchman had in mind when he went to England's place that day. He was hoping to form a new relationship with the tea-totting alcoholic, not stare down the mini version of him.

The little Englishman blushed and yelled, "What are you doing here, France? Can't you see I'm busy?"

France knelt down and asked, still in the state of shock, "What happened _Angleterre_?"

The Englishman looked away and said, "If you must know, I was trying out a new spell, to make America young again, but it backfired and… well…"

"Oh, _mon cherí petite lapin,_ you poor thing. Do you know how to turn yourself back?"

"I don't need pity from you!" The boy growled, "I designed the spell so that it WASN'T reversible, so that America COULDN'T be an adult again! And anyway: why are you here frog?"

France cupped the boy's face with his hands and said, gently, "I'm here about what we talked about last week. My president still wants to open better diplomatic relations with Great Britain, you know. That's why I'm here."

England looked at him for moment, contemplating, and then said, with a pout, "Well it's a bit hard, considering I'm now a child, you know. Going to take me over, you wine freak—"

He was cut off when two arms circled around his small formed and he was hoisted into the air. France held him in his arms and said, "Well then, I'll just have to take care of you till you turn back; okay?"

"What! No, France!" England tried to push away, but stopped when he almost fell out of France's grasps. He sighed and snuggled into the Frenchman's chest. "Do what you want, France…"

*****

England hate to admit it, but France could be really nurturing, when he wanted to.

The boy suffered a bout of déjà vu as France led him down the hall, to his storage room. Opening it, he turned to the boy and asked, "Do you have any of your clothes from when you were younger?"

England thought and then shook his head, "I have, but I don't know where they are. I know where the clothes from when America was here."

France switched on the light and tried not to inhaul as he looked at the dust covered room. "You sure like your stuff: when was the last time you cleaned this room?"

England kicked him in the shin and said, "Shut-up! Just help me find America's old clothes!"

With a sigh, France began looking through un-marked boxes, with England climbing over everything, trying to reach the back boxes. After an hour of coughing and looking, France made England wait at the door; scared he might catch something with all the dust in the room.

Going through a box marked "British Columbia", France lifted up a white dress-shirt with a red tie on top. He held it up to England and asked, "What about this? Looks like your size."

England looked at it and said, "That's not America's, and he didn't wear one with a red tie. Hey wait that's… that is, thingy… what's his name?"

"You mean Canada?"

"Yeah him, give it over—"

"What do you say, _mes ami_?"

England glared at him, eye twitching, but succumbed, "Okay, okay… PLEASE may I have it?"

France smiled and handed the clothing over. Just as England went to grab it, France pulled it away again and said, "But first, I have to give you a bath. You're filthy, and I'm not letting you wear this nice shirt and put dust all over it!"

"But, France—"

"And if you want," France winked at him, "I can go in with you, to make sure you're washed properly. Okay, _mon petite_?"

England looked at him, or rather glared, but sucked it in and nodded, letting the Frenchman carry him to the bathroom. When they got there, France put him down and said, "Go get undressed while I go and wash this shirt: it's all dusty after being in that box for so long."

England shrugged, watching the man leave, shutting the door behind him. He threw off his baggy clothes and ran up to the bath and stopped: shivering, he reliesed that he couldn't reach the taps. Pulling a towel down from the rack, he yelled out, "France!"

He waited a moment, and then the door opened, France stepping through. He bent down and asked, a sober look upon his face, "What is it, _Angleterre_?"

England blushed and explained, "I'm sorry, I can't reach the taps."

France smiled and said, "Okay, I'll put you in." So picked up the boy, who dropped the towel, and placed him in the bath; switching on the taps. He ruffled the boy's hair and said, "I'll be back soon, after I've cleaned that shirt and found something for me. Okay, _petite lapin_?"

England nodded as France left. He began splashing water onto himself as it came into the bath slowly. After ten minutes, he started to become nervous when the water almost reached the top of the bath tub. He shivered and yelled out, "France!"

He couldn't hear anything. "France!"

He went over and tried to turn the water off. It was surprisingly hard for someone his size. He yelled out to France again, trying to hold back his tears. He tried one more time, but a hand over his switched it off. He turned and looked up at France, who bent down and asked, a soft smile across his face, "_Angleterre,_ are you okay _chéri_?"

France moved a tear out of the boy's eye as he sobbed, "You took so long, and I didn't want the tub to over flow. I yelled for you three times, France…"

The Frenchman chuckled and held the boy's head to his chest, getting his shirt wet. "My poor _lapin,_ I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. I'm here _now_ though, so no more crying, okay?"

England pulled away and said, clutching his little fists, "I'm not crying!"

France laughed again, taking his clothes off. "Oh yes, I can see that _Angleterre._"

He dipped into the bath and sat in front of England, who was pouting at him. He stretched out his hands to the boy and said, "Come here, I want to wash you."

"Pervert…"

"I promise I won't pull anything, _bonbon._"

England blushed at this and stuttered, "Wha- hey, don't… don't call me that!"

England paused for a moment, before stepping forward, into the Frenchman's arms. France chuckled again and said, "Don't you like your new nickname. You always called America and Canada that… Alright, here's the soap, you can wash yourself."

The boy took the bar of soap, scowled up at France then began washing himself. France turned him around, so that the boy was looking away, and began splashing water onto his hair. When England finished, he placed the soap back, on the other side of the tub, and returned to France's lap. The Frenchman kissed him on the head and asked, "Do you want me to wash your hair, _bonbon_?"

The Englishman simply nodded. France began soaping his head up with shampoo, running his fingers through the boy's hair gently. When he finished massaging the hair, he began rinsing it out, cupping water in his hands and splashing it over the boy. France turned the boy around, kissed him on the nose and asked, "How are you feeling?"

The boy thought and then bit his bottom lip, trying to hold in his tears. "France… Am I… Am I, going to stay like this forever?"

France was stared at, shocked by the question. He cupped the boy's chin with one hand and removed a falling tear drop with the other. "_England,_ this is your spell… don't you know how to reverse it or anything?" England shook his head, moving to rest on France, his head nuzzling the man's chest. "Oh _England…_ I'm sure you'll be normal soon, and even if you're not, I promise I will look after you, _chéri._"

"Really France?" asked England, looking up with bit eyes.

France nodded. "I won't let anything hurt you, _Arthur…_"

When they were done and out, France placed a woolly towel over the boy and said, "I'm going to go get your shirt, stay here, okay? I won't be long this time, promise…"

England smiled and nodded, watching France, with a towel over his mid section, walk out the door; this time, he left it opened, just in case England needed him. The Englishman sighed, sitting on the ground and waited patiently. After ten minutes of sitting and sighing, France eventually came back into the room wearing one of England's plain shirts, with a brown vest over it, and black pants. The boy didn't comment, wanting the shirt before he caught a cold.

France knelt down and handed him the clean shirt. "There: all clean and _hopefully_ dried, _mon petite._"

The boy took it, dropped the towel again, and slipped it over his shirt. Shaking his, still wet, hair, he looked up at France and smiled, "It's warm, did you put it in the dryer?"

The Frenchman wiped some of the water from his face, picked up the towel and placed it onto the boy's head again. "You need to dry your hair or else you'll catch a cold, _Angleterre._"

England shrugged, letting the Frenchman pull him into his lap again. France ruffled the hair with the towel, asking every so often if he was being too rough.

"No… it's, it's okay. It feels kind of… kind of—"

"Do you like this, _bonbon_?" France asked, kissing the boy's head.

England blushed and tried to wiggle away. "You pervert; let go, I can—"

France pulled him back and chuckled, "You know I was just being a bully. _Mon Angleterre,_ calm down and relax so that you can think about how to change yourself back again."

England sighed and leaned back into France's grasps, letting him run the towel through his hair, and then his fingers, neatening it out.


	7. Love Scene Part 1

Didn't Mean to be a Don Juan

[Matthew x Alfred x Arthur]

Part 7:

"Told you you'd come over to my side," smirked Alfred.

Alfred was lying, with his arms behind his head, naked on the bed. Matthew was straddling him, his white shirt sticking to his sweaty skin. Arthur was glaring at the American from next to him. The Englishman had his head jacked up by his arm as he lay naked next to them.

He moaned, looking away, "Oh shut-up, for all you know, I'm here for Matthew, and MATTHEW ALONE!"

The American snickered. "Well, if you say so…"

An hour ago:

Arthur and Matthew walked through the door, hand in hand. The Englishman looked very pissed, stomping into Alfred's apartment as he did. Slamming the door behind him, Alfred looked up and smirked, "You're going to get me kicked out of my apartment if you do that."

"Fuck you," snared Arthur, "We're here, so be happy."

"Oh I am happy…" Alfred stalked towards them, "Oh, and I WILL fuck you."

Arthur looked away, holding Matthew closer. The Canadian, however, smiled at the man and asked, "Yeah, took me ages to get Arthur out of the house. You should come over some time."

The American lightly held the young man's chin and purred, "Did it now, did he make you say that?"

The Englishman scowled, as Alfred gave the Canadian a rather sloppy kiss. After a moment, Arthur started to develop a migraine and pushed the American away, relinquishing the Canadian. "I knew this was a bad idea!"

"And yet you're here."

"Shut-up you moron—"

Alfred had pushed the Englishman into the door, glowering down at him. He bent down and said, "Arthur, don't make this difficult…"

The Englishman swallowed, having a sudden loss for words. His heart still pounded as Alfred moved back to Matthew, leading him into his room. That's when he woke-up and reliesed, "Hey, where are you taking _my_ Matthew?"

Alfred turned and said, as the two reached the door to the bedroom, "Entertaining Matthew until you get over yourself—"

"WHAT! Get back here you son of a—"

Alfred grabbed him by the wrist and pulled the Englishman, throwing him onto the bed, and then proceeds to discard his clothes. Matthew gasped and jumped onto the bed. "Arthur, are you okay?"

The Englishman smirked and pushed his lover into the bed, giving him a sloppy kiss as his hands started down the young man's body, ripping at the clothes. Matthew struggled a bit, his shirt the only thing on now, only to give in, moaning as the Englishman moved down his neck.

"Hey, let me have some of that!" pouted Alfred, trying to push Arthur off. He pinned him down and kissed him on the lips before saying, "Go and get undressed while I taste Matthew."

"Bastard…" But Arthur let him do what he wanted, stripping himself of his shirt and pants. When he was done, he pushed Alfred off of a cowering Matthew and said, "Alright, you have us both here, now, what do you want us to do?"

Alfred smirked, running a hand down the Englishman's back to rest at his exposed arse, running a finger down the crack. "What do you think I want?"

"Cut it out, you moron!" barked Arthur, yet making no attempt to move out of reach.

The American looked down at the Canadian and said, "You poor thing, having Arthur like a boss. I bet he's always on top, isn't he?"

"Well…"

"Don't say such a thing, Al!"

Alfred pushed the older man onto his back and pinned him down, glaring at him again.

Matthew gasped and held the American's shoulders, "Ah, Alfred stop: please don't hurt him!"

Alfred smiled, "You're lucky Mattie's here, or I would have given you a black eye—"

Arthur kissed him on the lips. It was an action that caught all three off guard. After a moment of tongue lashing, Arthur forced himself away, asking, "Are you happy now?"

Alfred looked down with intrigue. "Quite…"

As the Canadian helped Arthur up, Alfred was rummaging in one of the side draws. Soon after, he popped back up and threw something in between them. They blushed furiously as Arthur mumbled, "You have a tub of lubricant with you?"

"Yeah, you never know who will _come_ over—"

"Please tell me you're joking?"

"Hey Matthew, ever been on top?" The Canadian shook his head.

All of a sudden, Arthur was splayed on Alfred's lap, with Matthew's head pressed towards Arthur's arousal. The Englishman blushed and stuttered, "Wha- what the hell, Alfred…?"

"Well, one of us has to suck you off, since you're going to be on the bottom—"

"Who says I'm botto—Al- stop…" The American was sucking on his neck, tweaking a nipple as he did.

He winked down at Matthew and said, "Suck him off, would yah?"

The Canadian nodded, placing his lips above the erection. Before Arthur could stop him, the young man moved down, swirling his tongue over the head and up and down the shaft. Arthur moaned, trying to stop the urge to thrust up as Alfred bit down on his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, but could only moan, a dribble of saliva trickling down his chin.

Alfred smirked to himself, moving his un-occupied hand to the tub of lub, having a little trouble un-screwing it with one hand. When he did, he coated his fingers and whispered into the man's ear, "Brace yourself…" He snuck the hand around Matthew, who was busy _amusing_ Arthur, and slowly pressed in, causing the man to throw his head back, his breath hitched.

Matthew looked up with concern and asked, "Are you okay, Arthur?"

Alfred laughed, kissing his – one of two – lover's temple and explained, "He'll be fine, right Arthur?"

The Englishman nodded, pulling an un-comfortable face. "Al, this feels…"

"It will be okay, just let me do my thing."

Arthur nodded. Unknown to them both, once again, Alfred had moved his fingers from the nipple and started coating them in lub again. Encouraging Matthew to keep going with what he was doing, he pulled them out of the tub and placed one into himself, pulling a face.

"Are you okay, Aly boy?" mocked Arthur, in-between moans and groans.

Alfred chuckled, biting the shoulder again. With a mouthful of flesh, he murmured, "I'll be fine, buddy."

Arthur only laughed, feeling himself come into Matthew's mouth, yet still a little aroused as Alfred's finger(s) rubbed against his prostate. The Canadian moved away and started to lick the Englishman's neglected nipples. The American kissed on the ear and said, "I think you're stretched enough, don't you?"

An eye twitched as the weight moved around, so that Arthur was thrown off of him. Matthew, too, was a little caught off guard, throwing himself back slightly. The American beckoned him closer. He quite obliged. When they were an inch apart, Alfred whispered into his ear, "I'm going to lower myself onto you, think you're ready?"

Matthew gasped, straightening his legs quickly as Alfred got on all-fours, crawling closer. Engulfing the Canadian's mouth, the younger man didn't seem to realise his own erection going into Alfred, not even when the – slightly – older man flinched.

"Alfred, I don't want to sit here and watch, you know…" moaned Arthur.

The American chuckled and turned to him, not moving from his position. "Yes, well… I haven't really bottomed in a while, so I need to get use to cutie's dick first, before I can deal with you, tea-tottler…"

Arthur's eye twitched, but let it go as Alfred sighed, encouraging Matthew up and down.

_To be Continued…_

_Author Note:_

_Woah, it took for ever to write this chapter for SO MANY REASONS!_

_The worst thing was that I KNEW basically how the chapter would go, I just did have the motivation at the time to do it… I got sick of writing sex scenes for a while… I know, I'm a terrible person, but the next chapter shouldn't be too long, since it's the second half of the sex scene!_

_Please don't hate me ___


	8. Love Scene Part 2

Didn't Mean to be a Don Juan

[Matthew x Alfred x Arthur]

Part 8:

Alfred breathed in heavily, sighing as Matthew slowly moved in and out. The American knew that he was use to the feeling now, but he wanted a little more time with Matthew. Not long after, eye twitching, Arthur groaned, "Alfred!"

The American smirked, stilling their movements. He raised a hand to him and gestured Arthur closer, widening the gap between the two North Americans, yet still connected. Alfred chuckled, patting his lap, "I want you to face Matthew though: can't have you's love birds torn apart, can we?!"

Arthur shrugged, carefully manoeuvring his leg over the connected two, earning a grope from Alfred in the process. The Englishman lowered himself down slowly – he was hard, again! –, wincing as he took in Alfred. He head-butted the American when he heard the man snickering. "Fuck off Alfred, it's- ah, I'm not even IN yet!"

Becoming a _little_ impatient, Alfred thrusted up a little, causing the man to wince. When the smaller man was settled in his lap, he threw his head back, almost knocking Alfred out. "That's what you get; yank, for being a cheeky bastard."

"Oh, Arthur, you shouldn't've…" Matthew sighed, letting the Englishman pull him into an embrace. Arthur ran his tongue over the young man's lips, causing him to moan and open his mouth.

Alfred snuck his arms around Arthur's waist and licked his shoulder. "Are we going to do this, or are you going to waste time making me jealous?"

The Englishman snickered, moving away from Matthew's blushing face. "Well, that's what you get for being a Don Juan—"

"A what what? Don? Like the mafia?"

Arthur sighed, moving up and down slowly. This caused the three to shutter in pleasure with the new experience. Matthew fell into the older man's chest, not quite use to his new position. The Englishman chuckled; holding him close as he stiffened with Alfred's thrust.

"Alfred, slow down- a- bit…" murmured Arthur.

The American chuckled, licking up the Englishman's neck. "Okay, I'll be nice, for Matthew."

"You assh- Ooh!" Arthur threw his head back. After a moment of awkward moving, they steadied a pace, with Matthew staying mostly still the whole time.

Arthur held the youngest man close, kissing his golden locks, and asked, "Matthew, sweetheart, how are you doing?"

"Yeah, Mattie: does it feel strange to be on top, for once?"

The Englishman struggled to send Alfred a glare, who returned it with a smirk. Matthew merely smiled, moving forward a little, pursing his lips. Alfred's smirk got broader as he moved forward, licking and nipping at Matthew's plush lips.

Arthur pushed down on Alfred hard, making him whimper in pain. "Damn it, Arthur: I almost pierced myself on Matthew, you know!"

"Alfred, I'm so sorry—"

"You don't have to apologise, Matthew…"

They started up the movement again. Alfred blushed, still trying to accommodate Matthew inside him, despite the preparation before hand. Matthew clung to Arthur, who was stroking his hair: kissing his head in between flinches.

They gasped – Alfred was, of cause, the loudest – as the three came in unison.

Alfred fell backwards, onto his pillow; bring the other two with him. Arthur yelped as he went down, yelling, "Alfred!"

The American burst into laughter. "Oh come on, Arthur: that was fun, wasn't it. You get to be fucked by one guy, and kiss another; that's pretty good for your standards—"

"What are you insinuating!"

"Guys?" They both looked at Matthew, who had a glazed expression. He smiled at them, kissing Arthur on the chest. "I can't see how you's two can have so much energy after all that…"

"You're just too cute, Mattie." Laughed Alfred, running a hand through Matthew's golden hair. "Alright, time for bed… sweet cheeks."

*****

It's been two weeks since they – all – started dating. It was still a little awkward, especially since Matthew would have to go between the two places. He didn't mind, it was a change of scenery in his boring life, but the two would fight over him. Yesterday, they even got into a tiff when Arthur said he wanted Matthew for the night, even though it was Alfred's turn. The poor Englishman had to suck it up, and do the late shift he was neglecting to do – lols.

The Canadian strolled down the road, smiling to himself as he held his book to his chest. Only a few yards from Arthur's house stood a very familiar face. Cautiously, Matthew walked up to his brother, who looked up and smiled. "Bonjour, frer; how have you been?"

Despite Arthur's efforts, Matthew couldn't hate Francois. He gave his big brother a big grin and returned the question, "I'm very well. How long are you back for, this time?"

His French brother threw his arms around Matthew, sighing. "Ah, how I missed you, mon cheri. It has been too long since I left you with that brute, Englishman… I should have taken you with me, while you were young; but mother and papa are so ignorant…"

Matthew rubbed his back, wincing a little when his brother tightened the grip. The man whispered into his ear, "I've come back to save you though… come back with me to France, Matthew."

He bent down and looked directly into the Canadian's violet eyes. Matthew blushed, trying to look away, only for two hands – resting on his cheeks – to pull his gaze back to his brother's. Mouth opening and closing like a gold fish, Matthew finally decided on: "I'm really happy to see you again, but…"

"You can't possibly want to stay with Arthur… do you?"

"He practically raised me, and…" He was able to look away, blushing furiously, "I've grown, attached to him."

Francois's eye twitched. "And he calls me a pervert—"

"Brother—"

BAM: Arthur hit him from behind, an extremely annoyed look plastered across his face. Moving towards Matthew, he placed an arm around the young man's waist and scowled Francois. "You left him; you have no right to ask him such a thing!"

The Frenchman straightened up quickly and barked, "What do you mean '_I left him'_? It was mother and father who sent me to France—"

"Because you were a delinquent!"

There was a long silence. Matthew looked between the two men, biting his bottom lip. Arthur sighed, placing his other hand onto his hip. "I can't stop you from visiting Matthew, he is your brother and he is quite… happy, to be around you, but—"

"But?"

Arthur looked him in the eye. Taking in a deep breath, he finished, "What happened between us is over, and you know that, but I don't want you—"

"You're the one who ran off with Matthew, to compensate over the loss." Francois crossed his arms, a smug look plastered across his face. He frowned when he saw Arthur look away from the two, looking slightly hurt. "I just came here to see you two, that's all, Arthur!"

Arthur glared back at him before moving away. "Matthew and I are about to go out. You can see _us_ tomorrow, if you must…" He then returned to the residence.

Francois strolled over to Mathew and gave him another hug. "Oh, it's good to see you again. Has he been looking after you? You have to tell me—"

"Francois!" Matthew kissed his brother on the cheek and then gave him a comforting smile, "We're doing fine, really. I've grown a lot since you last saw me, and I know how to look after myself. We can meet tomorrow, okay?"

Francois nodded, giving his brother one last hug – and a kiss on the cheek – before leaving. Arthur returned, a carry-bag thrown over his shoulder. He held Matthew's hand and smiled. "Ready to go meet Alfred?"

The Canadian nodded as they wondered down the road. Half way to town, Mathew bit his lip and asked, "There's something I wanted to ask, back when you first started looking after me…"

"Oh, go on…"

"I was too young, at the time, to work it out, but—"

"But?"

Matthew sighed, stopped Arthur in his tracks. "It's not that I mind or anything, but I was just wondering: were you sleeping with Francois during that time?"

There was a long silence. Matthew hoped he didn't offend the man in anyway. He raised an eyebrow when Arthur smiled, explaining, "I was dating Francois first: he said his parents needed a babysitter, so I offered to do it."

"To see Francois?"

"Yes…" He cupped the young man's face with his hands and finished, "That's why you saw us together so much when you were younger. I never regretted that decision, especially when I saw that cute, angelic face of your's, back when he first brought me to your home."

Matthew smiled, letting the older man kiss him on the lips. They then resumed to go and meet Alfred…

_To be Continued…_

_Author Note:_

_Alright, almost done: I was going to end it with this chapter, but the part with Francois went on a little longer then originally thought, so the next chapter is the last one._

_I decided to put Francois in because I mentioned him in another chapter as Matthew's brother, so I felt like I had to explain why he wasn't there. I was going to write in that he was actually Matthew's father, and got sent to a boarding school in France by his parents, for his insolence, but thought it be a bit too complicated – considering it's the second last chapter – so I put in that he was dating Arthur at the time. The info for it caused me to create another chapter, but this gives an opening for those who like Fruk (like me ^_^)_

_Sorry that I'm ending this so early: I'm, sadly, loosing my interest for the story – sex scene's are hard to write!_

_However, I could do with some help with my 'One Body, Split Mind' story, if anyone has nay ideas? I know where I'm going – now – I just need to get there first :P_


	9. So long, Comrades

Didn't Mean to be a Don Juan

[Matthew x Alfred x Arthur]

Part 9:

They stopped outside a pub, where Alfred's car was parked. They waited there for a moment or two. Matthew sighed, "When did he say to be here?"

Arthur shrugged, biting his bottom lip. "Ten to twenty minutes AFTER he said to be here, normally. He's always been like this though…"

"You want a drink, don't you?"

But before the Englishman could respond, a man came out of the pub and smiled, "Matthew: how long has it been, comrade?"

They both looked up to see Ivan standing in the door way of the pub. He smiled down at the two, making them shiver. The Canadian smiled nervously and said, "It hasn't been that long—"

"That time with Alfred doesn't count; we didn't talk…" He came out of the shadowy, narrow area and stood in front of the two. "And Arthur, we haven't been drinking together in such a long time—"

"I've been busy."

"Da, but Matthew isn't that hard to look after—"

"It's not him that I have to baby sit."

Ivan looked at him with an inquisitive look. "Then who?"

Arthur smiled and pointed down the street. The other two looked over and saw Alfred stop, only a few paces from them. The American stared at the Russian and spat, "What brings you here, Ivan?"

The Russian chuckled, explaining, "I have been talking to old friends while waiting for Toris to come out of the pub. What about you?"

There was silence. Alfred glared up at the strangely happy man. He smirked and shrugged, "I'm taking my friends out to lunch—"

"Ivan, I'm sorry," They all looked over at the pub door again. There stood Toris, shaking, despite his thick jacket and trousers. "I had to attend to Raivis: he got drunk again—"

He stopped when he saw the other three. "Oh, hello… nice to see you again Alfred."

The American nodded, his eyes following Toris as the young man took his place next to his Russian friend. Ivan chuckled once more and finally said, "We should meet each other again, some time. Good bye comrades; come along Toris."

And the two (ex) Soviets went on their way.

Alfred opened up the car, taking the drivers seat as Arthur took the passenger's, and Matthew's the centre back. Revving up the motor, Alfred asked, "So Matthew, how did you know Ivan? He doesn't seem to be the type of person I expect you to be around."

"Well…" Matthew sat back on the seat as the car pulled out. "We were friends in high school, is all. He was really nice to me, but…"

Alfred smirked. "Oh, and what did he do?"

Before the Canadian could explain, Arthur gave them an un-comfortable cough and said, "Actually, it was me…" Alfred shot a glance over to the Englishman. "I'm sorry: I didn't want you to be around him…"

Alfred threw his head back and laughed, stopping at a red light. "You get jealous easily, don't you, Arthur?"

The Englishman looked away in spite. Matthew laughed, un-buckling and moving forward to kiss Alfred on the cheek. "This isn't the time; let's just have a nice time today, okay?"

He returned to his seat, just as the light turned green. Arthur nodded, saying, "You're right, we're together now and that's all that counts…"

And they drove on.

_The End!_

_Author Note:_

_Yeah, it's finished, sorry about that. And for the shortness of this chapter._

_I wanted to add in Ivan because he was in chapter one, but I didn't explain he's relations to Matthew, so now you know ^_^_

_Hopefully you don't mind the end: I'm still getting use to ending stories, since I normally stop writing the story half way through: lols. Anyway: thanks for patiently standing by!_


End file.
